My whole family is involved in diplomacy, so you dare to flex your muscles?

The convoy, exuding an undeniable air of arrogance, slammed on the brakes in front of the Saint-Pierre Warehouse, splashing water everywhere.

The car doors popped open in unison, and a group of men and women, dressed in bespoke Savile Row suits and exuding an imposing aura, filed out.

The leader was an elderly white man nearing sixty, with a full head of silver hair combed meticulously like a mannequin. Beneath his high, hooked nose, his thin lips were tightly pursed, and deep-set eyes held a pair of sharp, dagger-like blue eyes.

He held a black snakeskin cane in his hand, its pure silver lion's head gleaming coldly in the gloomy light.

Each tap of the cane on the damp ground of Geneva produced a dull "thud," as if giving those present a countdown to death.

"Sir Russell Hamilton, Chief Legal Counsel of the Ashburn family."

Zhou Qiming whispered rapidly in Gu Yun's ear, his voice tense.

"A notorious 'cleaner' in London, he spent his life fighting international lawsuits, cleaning up the messes for old money families. He's ruthless and never lost."

Li Ang rolled his eyes inwardly, thinking to himself: The background music was practically overflowing from his suit; anyone who didn't know better would think it was some emperor emeritus arriving.

Sir Hamilton's gaze arrogantly swept past Bernard, the warehouse company's legal counsel, and locked onto Gu Yun on the steps like a vulture surveying its prey.

"Director Gu?" Hamilton's voice was thick with the pure London accent, almost like the aroma of black tea, carrying a condescending disdain.

"On behalf of my client, the Ashburn family, I hereby formally inform you that your actions, through political blackmail, have illegally interfered with the disposal of my client's legitimate private property in Switzerland, which constitutes a serious violation of international commercial law and Swiss federal law. We have prepared our complaint and reserve all rights to file a lawsuit with the International Court of Justice in The Hague and the Swiss Federal Supreme Court."

Good heavens, without even asking any questions, they immediately slapped on a huge label of "political blackmail," attempting to nail China to the pillar of shame using Western legal "political correctness."

Faced with this barrage of threats, Gu Yun didn't even lift an eyelid.

He didn't even acknowledge Hamilton, but instead turned to Bernard, who was sweating profusely, speaking in a tone as calm as if he were asking about prices at a market:

"Mr. Bernard, I recall that Article 3 of your company's 'Temporary Seizure Commitment' clearly states that during the seizure period, no unauthorized personnel may touch the subject matter. Now, are these people shouting and yelling at the gate considered unauthorized personnel?"

Bernard was so taken aback by the sudden question that he almost bit his tongue.

He glanced at the menacing Hamilton, then at the seemingly nonchalant yet relentlessly pressing Gu Yun, and wished he could dig a hole and bury himself right there. Why use him, the warehouse keeper, as a punching bag when these gods are fighting?

Hamilton clearly hadn't expected his tried-and-true "preemptive strike" to be completely ignored. His face darkened, and he slammed his cane heavily on the ground: "Young man, I'm talking to you! Don't try to use arrogance to cover up your legal ignorance. Answer my questions!"

"Your question?" Gu Yun finally turned her head and looked directly at him. There was no anger, no fear in her eyes, only the indifference of someone looking at an inanimate object. "Before I answer your question, Sir Hamilton, shouldn't you answer one of my questions first?"

Hamilton frowned, instinctively sensing a hint of danger.

Gu Yun took two steps forward and stood directly in front of Hamilton. Gu Yun was tall and much taller than Hamilton. This significant height difference, coupled with the oppressive aura of Gu Yun's long-standing authority and decisive ruthlessness, caused Hamilton to subconsciously take a half-step back, a chill running down his spine.

"You just kept saying 'legal private property' so smoothly."

Gu Yun's voice wasn't loud, but it was like a knife chilled to the bone, clearly scraping against the eardrums of everyone present. "Then, as the Ashburn family's chief legal counsel, please explain, in front of the whole world, using the Western laws you're so proud of—how did your family 'legally' obtain this so-called 'property' from the Dunhuang Mogao Caves in China back then?"

Gu Yun emphasized the last four words.

This problem, like a rusty iron awl, precisely and brutally pierced the vital point of Hamilton's carefully constructed legal wall.

Hamilton's pupils contracted sharply, but the old fox was still an old fox; he immediately sneered, attempting to subtly change the subject:

"Historical issues have their own complex historical context. We are standing here today to discuss current property law and property rights, not a history lesson from a hundred years ago! Director Gu, your sophistry and unreasonable tricks won't even win against the judge's gavel in court!"

"Is that so?" Gu Yun laughed, a laugh that sent chills down one's spine. "Since you're so keen on discussing current laws, let's skip the history lesson and start with a legal education. According to the 1970 UNESCO Convention, illegally exported cultural relics do not possess legal ownership. And according to your country's proud common law system, 'stolen goods, no matter how many times they change hands, cannot be laundered as stolen goods.' Now, tell me, you, this great lawyer, which law stipulates that stolen goods acquired a hundred years ago automatically become 'legal property' simply by being frozen in a freezer for a hundred years? Is this the logic of robbery, or the inheritance law of pirates?"

Gu Yun's speech was not fast, but the chain of logic was like a noose, link by link, directly strangling the other party's neck.

A young lawyer behind Hamilton couldn't hold back any longer and jumped out, shouting, "The convention has no retroactive effect! You can't use a 1970 law to govern actions from the early 20th century! That's legally absurd!"

"That's very well said, I'd like to applaud you." Gu Yun nodded approvingly, then abruptly changed the subject, his eyes instantly becoming extremely dangerous as he locked onto Hamilton, "Since you adhere to the principle of 'no retroactive application of the law,' let's talk about something more relevant. I have a very interesting financial penetration report here."

Gu Yun casually pulled a document from Li Ang's hand and waved it in front of Hamilton.

"According to records, the Ashburn Family Trust held an anonymous auction preview of one of the Dunhuang manuscripts through Sotheby's in 2003, but hastily withdrew it from the auction because it could not provide legal proof of provenance. Sir, would attempting a cross-border art transaction using false provenance information constitute financial fraud under the UK's Fraud Act?"

Hamilton's face finally cracked, the first visible crack appearing on his skin. The veins on the back of his hand, gripping his cane, bulged.

Gu Yun gave him no chance to breathe, continuing to press on, each sentence hitting a nerve: "What's even more interesting is that you purchased a huge insurance policy for these documents at this Saint Pierre warehouse company in Switzerland, but the ultimate beneficiary of the policy points to an offshore shell fund in Liechtenstein. You're exploiting the information barriers of the three countries' financial systems to carry out irregular asset stripping and secret transfers..."

Gu Yun leaned slightly forward and, in a voice only they could hear, delivered the fatal blow: "Sir, under the EU's latest anti-money laundering framework, wouldn't this operation be enough to prompt Interpol to freeze all of your family's accounts in London?"

Li Ang listened with great pleasure, feeling so comfortable he almost wanted to take off on the spot.

*This isn't just a quarrel, Brother Gu's come here to flip the table and dig into your past! You talk to him about history, he talks about law; you talk about law, he talks about financial crimes. There's bound to be a pair of silver handcuffs that can rub this old cod into the ground!*

Hamilton's breathing was completely erratic, his chest heaving like a bellows. He had spent his entire life litigating, accustomed to using the rules to defeat his opponents in court, but today he was facing a monster who didn't play by the rules at all, a monster who directly attacked from a lower dimension!

The other party not only investigated the details of the cultural relics, but also exposed the family's money laundering methods!

"These...these are all just your guesses and baseless slanders!" Hamilton gritted his teeth, still making a last-ditch effort, but the confidence in his voice had completely vanished.

"Whether it's defamation or not, I think the auditors at the Swiss Financial Market Supervisory Authority (FINMA) would be very interested in discussing this with me in depth," Gu Yun said, snapping his fingers at Zhou Qiming behind him.

Zhou Qiming understood immediately, took out his phone, dialed a number, and pressed speakerphone without hesitation.

A very serious German male voice came from the other end of the phone. Zhou Qiming spoke a few words in fluent German. Although most of the British lawyers present did not understand German, the repeated use of the words "FINMA," "Geldwäsche (money laundering)," and "Ashbourne" on the phone felt like a deadly hammer, striking Hamilton's nerves again and again.

After hanging up the phone, Zhou Qiming nodded respectfully to Gu Yun: "Director Gu, the senior commissioner of FINMA stated that they are highly concerned about any cross-border money laundering activities using the Swiss warehousing system. As long as we submit the materials, they can freeze all the assets of the trust involved in Switzerland within thirty minutes and initiate a criminal investigation."

This drastic move completely shattered Hamilton's psychological defenses.

He knew all too well! If this dragged on any longer, it wouldn't just be a "Sino-British diplomatic dispute" or a "dispute over the ownership of cultural relics," but would directly escalate into a "transnational money laundering case" that would shock Europe. At that point, not only would the cultural relics be lost, but the entire Ashburn family's century-old legacy would vanish due to the collapse of their financial chain! And he, the chief lawyer, would be stuck there working the sewing machine!

He stared intently at Gu Yun, his once arrogant blue eyes now filled with fear, resentment, and a deep sense of powerlessness.

"What exactly do you want?" Hamilton practically spat out the words through clenched teeth, his voice trembling like a leaky bellows.

"I don't want anything. I'm a very reasonable person." Gu Yun's expression remained gentle and refined, as if he hadn't just driven someone to a dead end. "I'm just here to take back what rightfully belongs to us. Now, I'm giving you and your client two choices."

He held up one long, slender finger.

"First, your people must disappear from my sight immediately. Saint Pierre will continue to fulfill its sealing commitment until Chinese and UNESCO experts complete the verification. After the verification, we can sit down and discuss the details of the return in a 'decent' manner."

Then, he raised his second finger, his eyes suddenly turning as cold as a demon.

"Second, if you continue to stand here and argue with me, then in ten minutes, all the evidence I just mentioned will simultaneously appear in the inboxes of the Swiss Financial Supervisory Authority, the Economic Crimes Unit of the Metropolitan Police, and the editor-in-chief of The Wall Street Journal."

Gu Yun looked at him and delivered her final verdict, word by word: "Sir, choose. Do you want to preserve your client's so-called 'property rights,' or do you want to preserve their freedom for the rest of their lives?"

The air seemed to freeze at that moment.

The group of elite lawyers behind Hamilton, who had been so arrogant just moments before, were now completely silent, their faces filled with horror. They finally realized that they were not dealing with an easily manipulated diplomat, but with a cunning and ruthless devil!

Hamilton's knuckles creaked as he gripped his cane. For a long time, he seemed to age ten years in an instant, then closed his eyes in anguish. When he opened them again, all the sharpness in his eyes had vanished, leaving only the ashen look of a lost dog.

"...Let's go."

He turned around, using all his strength to make his back look less hunched, and fled into the black Mercedes.

Watching the group of arrogant British old money slink away in disgrace, Li Ang finally couldn't help but let out an extremely loud whistle.

"Brother Gu, that was insane, holy crap!" He lowered his voice, his face flushed with excitement. "I just saw that old fox's face, it was as green as a moldy mailbox! I bet he's never suffered such humiliation in his entire life!"

Gu Yun ignored Li Ang's flattery and turned to look at the warehouse company's gate. Bernard was standing against the door frame, looking at Gu Yun with the same awe he felt for a living Yama, filled with the reverence of someone who had just survived a calamity.

"Mr. Bernard," Gu Yun said gently, as if he weren't the ruthless figure who had just driven everyone mad, "now, can you take us to see the sealed warehouse? I think that with the seal jointly signed by the Chinese side and UNESCO affixed, everyone will sleep a little more soundly, don't you think?"

"Of course! Of course! It's up to you! Director Gu, this way please, watch out for the steps!" Bernard shuddered, bending over so low he almost bent at a ninety-degree angle, and led the way.

The wind on the shores of Lake Geneva dispersed the morning mist. What seemed like a tense encounter ended in less than half an hour thanks to Gu Yun's overwhelmingly effective tactics.

However, Gu Yun knew better than anyone that the Ashburn family's concession was merely because their money laundering scheme had been compromised. This was just an appetizer; the real main course lay in the basement of the British Museum in London, and in the calculations of that superpower across the ocean.

Just as he stepped into the cold, temperature-controlled underground warehouse of the Saint-Pierre Company, ready to personally confirm the national treasures that had been wandering for a century, his encrypted phone suddenly vibrated rapidly in his pocket.

He took it out and saw it was a top-secret message from Zhao Jianguo back home. It was only a short line, yet it conveyed a sense of impending doom:

Washington has taken action. A presidential executive order, the highest level of authority.

Gu Yun's pupils instantly contracted to the size of pinpoints.

......

The air in London is much damper and colder than in Geneva.

When Gu Yun's private plane landed at Heathrow Airport, an autumn rain was falling lightly, shrouding the entire city in a gray hue, as if foreshadowing some ominous sign.

The embassy's bulletproof Red Flag limousine drove directly to the tarmac. As soon as Gu Yun got in the car, Cultural Counselor Xu Jianping handed him a steaming hot document with the highest-level red stamp on the cover. Xu Jianping's face was extremely grim.

"Director Gu, this is a summary of intelligence sent from the country overnight. In the few hours you were dealing with those old British moneybags in Geneva, the world changed dramatically." Xu Jianping's voice was more solemn than ever before.

Gu Yun took the document and quickly scanned it.

The core of the news is extremely explosive: At 10:00 AM local time, US President Brown signed a presidential executive order entitled the "Global Cultural Heritage Preservation and Security Act" in the Oval Office of the White House.

The terms of this bill are outrageously domineering. It boils down to only three core points:

1. Authorize the U.S. government to carry out so-called "preventive protection seizures" of any foreign cultural heritage that is deemed "at risk of being lost" or "used for political propaganda by authoritarian governments".

Second, establish a "Global Alliance of Guardians of Civilization" led by the United States, inviting its allies to join. Member states of the alliance would have the right to freeze and transfer assets of disputed cultural relics claimed by non-member states within their own borders.

Third, any company that engages in business cooperation with a country or entity that "steals" the intellectual property rights of the United States and its allies will have all its artworks and non-commercial assets located in the United States subject to indefinite review.

Listening to Xu Jianping's explanation from the passenger seat, Li Ang was so angry that he almost crushed the thermos in his hand.

"This...this is the 'Global Piracy Legalization Act', isn't it?!" Li Ang cursed, his voice trembling. "What do you mean by 'preventive protective seizure'? Isn't this blatant robbery?! I see your stuff is nice, I say there's a risk, and I just barge into your house and take it all? Do you have any shame?!"

"Shame? If they had any shame, they wouldn't have sent the Eight-Nation Alliance to invade Beijing back then." Xu Jianping smiled bitterly. "The third point is even more ruthless, directly linking the chip war and the cultural relic war together. This is an open threat to companies like Samsung and Tokyo Electron, which have just joined our 'Asian Semiconductor Framework.' The subtext is: anyone who dares to cooperate with China on chips will have their assets seized in the US!"

This is no longer a simple diplomatic pressure campaign or meddling. This is a complete overturning of the table! It's a blatant weaponization of cultural issues, the most frantic and shameless last-ditch counterattack by hegemonism after its repeated defeats!

The Brown government was utterly defeated in the Asian semiconductor framework, and its alliance system was crumbling. On the cultural front, Gu Yun had also forced its British masters to lose face. Under these double setbacks, they finally tore off all pretenses and chose to use the most brutal long-arm jurisdiction to forcibly change the rules of the game.

"What was the British reaction?" Gu Yun closed the document, his face still showing no emotion, as cold as ice.

"They immediately slid down to their knees and announced their joining that bullshit 'Guardians Alliance.'" Xu Jianping's tone was full of disdain. "Downing Street is now eager to cling to Washington's coattails. With this rogue bill as a shield, those guys at the British Museum are probably going to come back to life again."

Gu Yun's guess was absolutely right.

As soon as the car entered the embassy gate, former Dean Ma Weihan came out angrily, without even holding an umbrella, rain streaming down his gray hair.

"Gu Yun! Those British bastards have gone back on their word!" The old director trembled with rage. "This morning, our people went to check the archives as planned, but they were stopped right outside by the British Museum's security guards and lawyers! They shamelessly said that, given the new US law, all archives involving 'controversial artifacts' need to have their security risks 'reassessed,' and their access to us is temporarily suspended!"

"As expected." Gu Yun quickly stepped forward and draped his coat over the old dean. "They've found a new master to back them up, and they think they can keep dragging this out by acting like scoundrels."

"Delay? I'm afraid they're doing more than just delaying!" Ma Weihan pulled a crumpled photograph from his pocket and slammed it on the table. "This was taken by our people this morning in the back alley of the museum! Several unmarked, temperature-controlled trucks are secretly packing and moving the collection! I suspect they want to take advantage of this window of opportunity after the bill was passed to transfer the core Dunhuang manuscripts and important artifacts directly to the United States for so-called 'protective seizure'! If they actually manage to get them out, it'll be like throwing good money after bad!"

In the photo, several workers are carefully loading huge shock-absorbing crates onto a truck. Although the contents are not visible, the timing—a moment of blatant guilt—speaks volumes.

The atmosphere in the conference room was extremely oppressive, as if even the air itself had frozen.

The Americans set the stage, the British performed. One provided the legal justification for hegemony, the other was responsible for transferring the stolen goods. This combined approach almost created a perfect deadlock.

"Brother Gu, those bastards are too cunning." Li Ang gritted his teeth, his eyes reddening. "What do we do now? We can't just watch them take the stuff away, can we? Should we just protest?"

"If protests were effective, what would be the point of diplomacy?" Gu Yun tapped his fingertips lightly on the table, making a dull sound.

He raised his head and glanced around at the anxious and angry faces of the crowd. Suddenly, he chuckled softly.

The laughter was extremely cold, carrying a chilling composure.

"They thought they had built an invincible aircraft carrier, but they forgot that we provided the keel for this ship."

Everyone was stunned, not understanding what Gu Yun meant.

Gu Yun stood up, walked to the window, and looked at the gloomy rain outside with eyes as sharp as an eagle.

"The bill Brown signed seems aggressive and invincible, but it has a fatal logical flaw—it's too greedy." Gu Yun's voice echoed in the quiet conference room. "It forcibly twists semiconductors, finance, and cultural relics into one rope. He wants to play a total mobilization game? Fine, then we'll play a total reckoning with him! Since he's piled up the powder keg so high, all we need to do is strike a match."

He turned around, exuding an aura of authority, like a commander about to issue orders.

"Chief Xu, contact the domestic intelligence department immediately. I need a list. The sooner the better."

"What list?"

"A list of all U.S. military contractors who participated in the wars in Iraq, Afghanistan, and Syria over the past twenty years, as well as Wall Street financial institutions that provided financial support for these wars." Gu Yun's lips curled into a cruel sneer. "Incidentally, also include a list of cultural relics that the U.S. military 'accidentally bombed,' 'damaged,' or 'protectively relocated' in these locations."

Xu Jianping's eyes lit up instantly. He understood! Gu Yun was using Gu Yun's own methods against him! You Americans want to protect your "cultural heritage"? Fine, let's calculate for the whole world what you've actually "protected" all these years!

"Li Ang".

"Here!" Li Ang stood up straight as if by reflex.

"Remember that list of 'private patrons' from the British Museum's share of the spoils that we got in Geneva?"

"I remember! It's stored on the hard drive, encrypted three times!" Li Ang's spirits lifted.

"Declassify it. Circle all the names of American citizens, especially those connected to Wall Street, Silicon Valley, and the political donation families behind President Brown, in bright red pen, and make a separate PowerPoint presentation." Gu Yun's eyes were unfathomable, revealing a cunning and ruthless nature. "I want the whole world to see whether this so-called 'Guardians Alliance' is a group of compassionate guardians or a bunch of international robbers waiting to divide the spoils!"

Upon hearing this, Dean Ma Weihan slammed his hand on the table in excitement: "What a brilliant move! They use the bill as a shield, so we'll break their umbrella from the inside!"

"That's not enough." Gu Yun shook his head, a cold glint in his eyes. "This is just a war of words, only scratching the surface, not breaking their spirit. To make them feel the pain, we must strike at their wallets."

He looked at Xu Jianping and gave the final instruction: "Notify the domestic Anti-Money Laundering Center and the Ministry of Commerce to initiate a 'reciprocal assessment.' Since the US can examine the art assets of our companies in the US, we can also examine all the 'non-commercial' assets and cross-border capital flows of British and American companies in China. Tell the City of London and Wall Street that their risk assessment models need to be updated."

Each command, like a precise and deadly scalpel, calmly dissected the vitals of Anglo-American hegemony.

……

Three hours later. London, near Trafalgar Square.

The press conference room of the Chinese Embassy in the UK was brightly lit and packed with people. Cameras and microphones were densely packed together; media from all over the world had gathered there like sharks smelling blood, awaiting China's response to the new US bill.

Most Western journalists assumed they would receive a tired, strongly worded "strong protest" statement, which would then become fodder for their "impotent rage."

However, when Gu Yun, dressed in a sharp dark suit, walked confidently onto the podium, what he held in his hand was not a diplomatic script, but a small PowerPoint presentation flipper.

"Ladies and gentlemen, good afternoon." Gu Yun's voice, clear and steady, resounded throughout the hall through the microphone. "Before responding to the so-called 'Protection Act' released by the US this morning, I would like to show you a few photos."

He pressed the page-turning pen, and a shocking high-definition image instantly appeared on the huge LED screen behind him—the ruins of the Iraq National Museum after it had been looted, with the empty display cases resembling mouths of despair.

"Baghdad, 2003. This place once housed the most ancient treasures of Mesopotamian civilization. Now, it is a wound that will never heal."

Immediately afterwards, the screen switched to a stark contrast between the magnificent images of the Bamiyan Buddhas in Afghanistan before they were destroyed and the cliffs that were reduced to a huge, empty hole after the destruction.

"Afghanistan, 2001. It was called the war against terrorism, but the shared cultural memory of humanity became the most innocent casualty of this war."

One photo after another, one detailed report after another. From the ruins of the ancient city of Palmyra in Syria to screenshots of "trophies" openly flaunted by US soldiers on social media.

Gu Yun didn't launch into a vehement accusation; he simply stated the bloody facts in the calmest, most objective tone. But it was precisely this calmness that, like a series of heavy hammer blows, left all the Western journalists present breathless. The audience gradually fell silent, even the flashes of cameras slowed down.

"Now, a country that has personally created countless cultural disasters and left Middle Eastern civilizations devastated over the past twenty years has suddenly stepped forward and said that it wants to establish a 'Global Alliance of Civilization Guardians' to 'protect' cultural relics all over the world." Gu Yun's gaze swept across the entire room, a hint of undisguised mockery curling at the corner of his mouth. "Dear media friends, this doesn't sound like protection; it sounds more like a weasel announcing at a press conference that it's going to take over the entire village's chicken farm."

The room fell silent for a moment, then erupted into suppressed, awkward laughter.

"We certainly welcome any international cooperation that is genuinely committed to protecting cultural heritage," Gu Yun's tone suddenly shifted, becoming cold and stern. "But we firmly oppose any acts of robbery that use the guise of 'protection' to carry out colonial plunder!"

He pressed the page turner again. The screen instantly switched to a densely packed English list stamped with the British Museum's top-secret seal.

"Now, let's see who the first group of people who actively responded to this 'Guardians Alliance' are."

Gu Yun's laser pointer precisely pointed to the names of several family foundations highlighted in red at the top of the list. The moment these names appeared, the eyes of all the American reporters present were stung, and gasps of astonishment filled the air.

"Rockefeller, Morgan, Vanderbilt..." Gu Yun read out these names, which are household names in the United States and control the economic lifeline. "What's very interesting is that, according to the original archives held by the Chinese side, these families were not only the most important source of political donations for President Brown's election, but they were also 'private collectors' who 'received' a large number of Chinese Dunhuang and Yuanmingyuan artifacts from the British Museum a hundred years ago."

"boom!"

This statement was like a nuclear bomb, detonating simultaneously at the press conference and in live broadcasts around the world!

Everyone was stunned by this shocking revelation, and reporters frantically typed on their keyboards, afraid of missing a single word.

Gu Yun didn't stop; he continued to press the page turner, and a high-resolution scan of a Victorian-era letter appeared on the screen.

"This is an internal correspondence of the British Museum. The letter states in black and white: 'In gratitude for Mr. Morgan's generous funding of his expeditions to the East, the Museum will select a portion of its prized possessions as a private gift.'"

Gu Yun raised his head, his gaze piercing through countless cameras, as if looking directly at President Brown in the Oval Office of the White House.

"Now, the truth is out. The so-called 'Global Cultural Heritage Protection and Security Act' is not about protecting human civilization at all! It's about protecting the stolen goods in the hands of a small group of robbers! It's about using national hegemony to give a final, and most shameless, legal endorsement of the crimes of their ancestors!"

He paused, then his voice suddenly rose, becoming resounding and powerful, like a great bell:

"Therefore, on behalf of the Chinese government, I hereby formally declare to the world: We will not only refuse to recognize this illegal 'pirate alliance,' but we will also unite with all countries that have suffered from colonial plunder to establish a genuine international cooperation mechanism within the framework of the United Nations, with the sole purpose of pursuing and unconditionally returning the stolen goods!"

"Any country, institution, or individual that participates in, supports, or attempts to use this illegal bill to transfer, seize, or freeze Chinese cultural relics will be subject to the highest level of sanctions by China. All resulting economic and political consequences will be borne by you!"

"As for the British Museum," Gu Yun's gaze suddenly shifted to the British journalists sitting in the front row, his eyes as cold as the Siberian ice field, "I advise your museum not to try to secretly move the stolen goods from one place to another. Because what you will face will no longer be just a few innocuous diplomatic protests."

He slowly extended three fingers.

"Three days. If within three days we don't see those trucks transporting the items back to the basement intact, if we don't see your consulate reopening its doors to Chinese experts and restarting the document verification process..."

Gu Yun leaned forward slightly and uttered the final, deadly blow, word by word:

"Then in three days, China will officially launch a 'systemic risk penetration assessment' of all British financial institutions in China. At that time, what will need to be 'reassessed for security risks' will probably not just be a few volumes of scriptures, but the entire City of London's underwear."

After speaking, Gu Yun did not give the reporters any further questions. He nodded slightly, turned around decisively, and walked off the podium, leaving the world with only a tall and resolute back view.

The entire press conference hall was deathly silent. A full ten seconds passed before a deafening roar erupted, as if the roof had been lifted off the ground.

Everyone was stunned by this combination of information-packed and menacing punches, leaving them feeling numb and disoriented.

First, they used the enemy's own spear against him, exposing America's hypocritical double standards in cultural protection with bloody photos; then, they undermined the organization by exposing the money and illicit dealings behind the "Guardians Alliance," completely stripping it of its moral legitimacy; finally, they launched a ruthless economic nuclear deterrent, directly placing a knife to the lifeline of the City of London!

With this series of smooth moves, the "Cultural NATO" meticulously constructed by the Brown government became a complete international joke in less than twelve hours, its true colors exposed and displayed on a pillar in Trafalgar Square.

And Gu Yun, through this textbook-level diplomatic counterattack, declared an undeniable fact to the world—

The era when a few gunboats and a few worthless bills could force a major Eastern power to bow down and compromise is completely over.

Want to confront them?

Okay, then let's open all the ledgers and settle the accounts one by one right here in front of you!

......

......

Gu Yun's remarks at the London press conference were like a level 12 political tsunami, the aftershocks of which swept across the globe with overwhelming force within just 48 hours.

The first to collapse was the public opinion front.

"Pirate Alliance," "Guardians of Stolen Goods," and "The Art of the Thief Crying 'Stop Thief'"—these terms, coined by Gu Yun himself, dominated the trending topics on Twitter and major international news websites overnight. Countless historians, archaeologists, and even gossip bloggers, eager for a good spectacle, were frantically digging into the dark history behind that "stolen goods list." President Brown and a host of old American money families were stripped bare, with even their ancestors' sordid dealings in the African slave trade being unearthed and humiliated.

The financial markets followed suit and collapsed.

The nine words "systemic risk penetration assessment" hung like a malevolent ancient curse over the City of London. The day after the press conference, the FTSE 100 index plummeted at the opening bell, and the share prices of several British banks and investment banks with significant operations in China plummeted, turning a deep red. Angry capitalists and shareholders bombarded Downing Street with calls, demanding the Prime Minister immediately halt this foolish act of "dangling the national economy for a few worthless antiques."

In the end, it was that so-called "Guardians Alliance" that collapsed.

Faced with China's strong economic countermeasures and overwhelming global condemnation, several European countries that had been observing and preparing to follow suit and align themselves with the United States immediately retreated into their shells. They issued a statement overnight, expressing their "firm support for resolving historical issues within the framework of UNESCO," swiftly distancing themselves from the United States.

Even the most loyal "Daiying Empire" couldn't hold on any longer.

The afternoon after the press conference, the unmarked trucks that had attempted to secretly move the collection slunk back to the British Museum’s backyard amidst flashing lights and the “farewell” of protesters.

On the morning of the third day, the British Museum Council issued an official statement that was described as humiliating: announcing that it would immediately resume the archival verification work with the Chinese side and the UNESCO working group "in the most open and responsible manner", and promising "never to transfer any disputed collections".

Thus, the Brown government's meticulously planned cross-border extreme pressure campaign completely failed. Not only did they fail to help Britain out of its predicament, they also dragged themselves into a double quagmire of moral and economic woes, losing both their money and their reputation.

half a month later.

Jingren Palace, Palace Museum, Beijing.

The late autumn sun slanted through the carved window frames, casting its light on rows of glass display cases that maintained a constant temperature and humidity. A special verification process, not open to the public, was being conducted here.

Wearing snow-white cotton gloves and holding a high-powered magnifying glass, Dean Ma Weihan trembled slightly with extreme excitement. On the red velvet tray in front of him lay a yellowed scroll of scripture—the Mahaprajnaparamita Sutra, a Tang Dynasty manuscript, one of the core national treasures lost overseas from the Dunhuang Mogao Caves.

This is one of the first thirty core documents that the British Museum agreed to enter into the "unconditional return process" under unbearable pressure.

"No mistake...no mistake..." Ma Weihan's voice was thick with emotion as he pointed to an extremely tiny ink dot at the end of the scroll, almost blending into the paper's texture. "This is a secret mark made by the inspectors of the Qing Dynasty's Post-Imperial Affairs Committee using a specially formulated ink. It's exactly the same as the record in the original inspection book in our basement!"

Beside him, several top experts from the Palace Museum, whose hair had turned white from years of working, also had red eyes, some even turning away to secretly wipe away tears.

Gu Yun stood aside, quietly watching this scene. He didn't speak, but a burning emotion, indescribable, surged within him.

This is not merely a scripture; it is a century-old wound of humiliation. And today, they are finally beginning to mend this wound with their own hands.

"Director Gu," Ma Weihan put down the magnifying glass, turned around, and bowed deeply to Gu Yun with an extremely solemn expression, "On behalf of generations of Palace Museum staff, and on behalf of those seniors who did not live to see this day... thank you."

Gu Yun quickly stepped forward and firmly supported the old man's arms: "Dean Ma, you flatter us. This is what our generation should do."

"No, you don't understand." Ma Weihan shook his head, tears welling in his cloudy old eyes, yet revealing an unprecedented resolve. "Before, we had to beg, borrow, and pay exorbitant prices to buy things, having to endure other people's disdain and accept their charity. It was you who, for the first time, allowed us to stand tall, point our fingers at them, and reclaim what belonged to our ancestors!"

Please come back. We must come back.

These words, though heavy as a thousand pounds, are also incredibly powerful and unrestrained.

That afternoon, Gu Yun received a call as expected from Kim Tae-woo, the president of Samsung Group, who was in South Korea.

"Director Gu," Kim Tae-woo said on the other end of the phone, his voice rising an octave with triumphant excitement, "we've just received confirmation! The U.S. Department of Commerce has lifted all export control restrictions on our joint venture with Singapore. The Asian semiconductor framework has won!"

Gu Yun was not surprised, and a faint smile appeared on her lips.

When the Brown administration attempted to forcibly link chip hegemony with cultural plunder, they had already lost. This made it clear to the world that their so-called "national security" and "civilizational protection" were nothing more than a cheap fig leaf to maintain imperial dominance and cover up their thieving acts.

When Gu Yun ruthlessly tore away this fig leaf, all the sanctions built upon it lost their legal basis and the support of allies. Americans are businessmen, and businessmen know best how to cut their losses.

"President Jin, this is just the beginning," Gu Yun said calmly, his tone brimming with confidence. "From now on, the Asian industrial chain can only be defined by Asians themselves."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, followed by Kim Tae-woo's extremely solemn voice: "I completely agree. Our entire team looks forward to your presence at the first Asian Semiconductor Supply Chain Summit to be held in Singapore next month."

Just as Li Ang hung up the phone, he pushed open the door and walked in, holding a case closure report from the National Security Department, his face full of the satisfaction of getting revenge.

"Brother Gu, the 'Locust Tree' lead is completely closed!" Li Ang handed over the report. "Tang Shaowen, Jiang Mingyuan, and their gang of traitorous public intellectuals and moles—every single one of them has been caught. The overseas fund flows, the contact lists—the chain of evidence is perfectly closed. They'll be spending the rest of their lives working on sewing machines in jail. Director Chen asked me to pass on a message: cooperating with you is a no-brainer!"

Gu Yun opened the report and looked at the names of those who were once arrogant but are now prisoners, his eyes showing little emotion.

To him, these people were nothing more than a few rats trying to steal food as the empire crumbled. What he truly needed to do was to solidify the foundation of this national edifice until it was indestructible.

……

A month later, on a chilly winter morning.

At Beijing West Suburbs Airport, a Y-20 large transport aircraft adorned with the August 1st Army emblem broke through the morning mist and landed smoothly on the runway amidst the attention of the world.

The massive hatch slowly opened. There were no extravagant flowers or long red carpets. Only rows of People's Liberation Army soldiers in crisp ceremonial uniforms and a group of white-haired, tearful experts from the Palace Museum.

When the first specially made incubator draped with the bright red five-star flag was carefully and solemnly carried down the gangway by the soldiers, all the media cameras on site were fixed on this historic moment.

This plane was carrying 188 top national treasures, the first batch to be unconditionally returned from Britain, France, Switzerland, and the United States.

Each of them was once a page of national humiliation stained with blood and tears.

And today, they have gone home.

The internet was already a boiling ocean. Countless netizens spontaneously flooded the live stream screen with the same message, the barrage of comments so dense it blotted out the sky:

Welcome home!!!

[Cyber ​​King Gu is awesome! He kept his word and actually brought them back!]

[This brought tears to my eyes. After a hundred years, we finally don't have to wander anymore!]

There are no complicated slogans, only the simplest four words, yet they contain the deepest and most fervent national sentiments of 1.4 billion people.

Gu Yun, the mastermind behind all of this, did not appear at the grand welcome ceremony at the airport.

At this moment, he is standing alone on the top floor of the Wenyuan Pavilion in the Forbidden City.

This was once the royal library, and also a place of sorrow where countless books were looted and lost.

He leaned on the railing and gazed into the distance. The glazed tiles of the Forbidden City reflected a dazzling golden light under the winter sun. In the distance, the bustling and vibrant modern silhouette of Beijing stretched out before him.

His phone rang; it was Li Ang calling.

"Brother Gu, where are you? The celebration banquet is about to start, and the commander and the old dean are looking for you everywhere!" Li Ang's voice was full of joy.

"I won't go." Gu Yun's voice was calm and relaxed. "Please tell the chief and the dean that I'm taking a break."

"What? You're the top contributor to such an important occasion, how could you not be here?" Li Ang exclaimed anxiously.

Gu Yun smiled, offered no explanation, and hung up the phone.

He took out a small black leather booklet from the inside pocket of his suit. It was a "Memorandum on the Recovery of Lost Cultural Relics from Overseas" that he had personally compiled based on the original inspection records of the Palace Museum and intelligence provided by the National Security Bureau.

Only 188 items came back today.

This booklet contains over ten thousand names, densely packed together.

Gu Yun turned over the pages where "British Museum" and "Geneva" had been crossed out, and opened a brand new page.

He pulled out his pen and, with sharp strokes, wrote three words on the blank paper:

Winter Palace

Next, a place name was marked below:

St. Petersburg

A biting north wind blew by, whipping up the hem of his dark suit and making a rustling sound.

Gu Yun raised his head, his deep gaze passing over the layers of palace walls, looking towards the distant north.

His eyes remained calm, yet they resembled a deep sea concealing turbulent waves.